The air was thick with tension, the kind that crackled like electricity before a storm. A chill swept through the valley as he stood on the edge of the cliff, gazing down at the city of his ancestors, his heart pounding in his chest. The towering peaks of the Himalayas loomed behind him, ancient witnesses to the turmoil that had engulfed his homeland. He was Jungkook, a son of Nepal, and today he stood as the leader of his people, facing the imminent threat of encroachment from the northeast

It had been just over a year since he lost his parents in the turmoil that erupted when they attempted to protect our borders. They fell victim to chaos — innocents caught between the fight for survival and the harsh reality of political strife. Their memory fueled a fire within me, an unyielding resolve that made me the man he was today. He was not just fighting for land; he was fighting for a legacy, for dignity, and above all, for his family's honor

His fingers tightened around the binoculars as he surveyed the movements of the forces advancing towards our territory. The enemy was underestimating us, thinking we were a fractured nation, too weak and too torn apart by strife to put up any real resistance. But they did not know the spirit of the Nepalese — we would fight as fiercely as the mountains that surrounded us

With precision, he directed his troops, he comrades — friends who had become like family in this fight. Our strategy, time-honored, was rooted in the very soil of our homeland. We knew the valleys and passes better than any foreign adversary; it was there that our strength lay. He recalled the tales his father had told me of battles fought far above the clouds, of bravery and sacrifice. We were warriors in our own right, but it was love for our land, not just revenge, that propelled us into the fray

Jungkook: he throwing bombs on northeast people while looking at others fighting